


That Don't Impress Me Much

by Small_Hobbit



Series: River Police [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 22:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17476364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: DI Stanley Hopkins (Met River Police) gets to accompany Sherlock to a cocktail bar, although it's really not his scene.





	That Don't Impress Me Much

**Author's Note:**

> Written for DW's Ficletzone "Shania Twain" prompts

It wasn’t Stanley Hopkins’ scene: sitting round a table in a bar which specialised in expensively priced cocktails.  But Mycroft Holmes had suspicions that one of the others at the table was selling details of government contracts and had asked Sherlock for his assistance.

Sherlock had objected, but Mycroft had said he would be going to the bar in the persona of a distant cousin, which had a certain appeal.  And then Mycroft had played his trump card by suggesting Sherlock take Stanley with him.   

Stanley had objected.  “I shall stick out like a sore thumb.”

“You’ll be fine,” Mycroft said in reassurance.  “They’ll all be too busy talking themselves to ask you anything, and Sherlock is quite capable of filling any gaps.”

“Who am I supposed to be?  Someone’s bound to ask.”

“Sherlock will say you’re his partner, and something about you doing one of those boring but necessary jobs, which will satisfy them.  All you have to do is pretend to be interested.  I’m sure you can manage that; you must have to do the same at policy briefing meetings.”

Stanley grinned.  “You might think that.  I couldn’t possibly comment.”

Mycroft continued, “And when you come to leave, it probably wouldn’t hurt to let them know you work for the Met.  I suspect it will upset more than just the man I’m after.”

They had reached the third round of cocktails.  Stanley wasn’t drinking; Sherlock had explained Stanley was driving the pair of them back to Norfolk that night.  A couple of the group had tried to encourage him to have at least one glass, but Stanley had given a small smile and shaken his head, which had confirmed their opinion of him as a boring non-entity.

The conversation had turned to what they had been doing that day; Stanley suspected Sherlock had engineered it.  There was a considerable amount of boasting: the number of women who had been keen to bring one his coffee, the figure another had earned in foreign currency dealing, the marketing deal a third was about to pull off.

A fourth leaned towards Stanley and said, “I don’t suppose you expected to meet quite so many impressive people today, did you?”

Stanley gave a non-committal grunt and refrained from commenting.

Sherlock nodded at Stanley and stood up, Stanley following suit.

The foreign currency dealer said, “So, Stanley, you haven’t told us what you did today.”  This was greeted by a number of sniggers.

“I’m an inspector with the Met River Police and was leading the team you may have seen abseiling down some of the buildings in Canary Wharf this morning.”

In the silence which followed Stanley’s answer, he caught Sherlock’s eye and they left.

 


End file.
